Page 98 of Close Your Eyes and Count to 10

He leaned in close to the camera, made his voice low. He stared, too, at the graffiti on the wall. He’d seen it before. Where? “What,” he spat. “Do. You.Want.”

The dollface moved in, too, taking up the whole screen. The voice became a hiss of menace. “I want you topay, Maverick. I want you to answer for every lie you’ve told, every dime you’ve stolen, every person you’ve used or hurt, every person who hurt themselves trying to be like you. I want you to have nothing left. No love. No money. No adoring fans. I want everyone to see you for what you are.”

The rage coming across the line was sizzling, unhinged. Was it one of the Moms Against Mav? In his experience, only moms could muster that much rage.

“And how does hurting the people I loveaccomplishthat?” he asked.

“You don’t need to worry about my agenda, Mav. All you need to know is that this game belongs to me now. You’re just a player. Wow. Look at all these views. I’m live, Maverick. I have my followers, too.”

“Who are you?” he asked. It was right there. Something familiar.

Hector seemed to come to life again, moved over to his computer, and started clicking. The rain on the roof was a chaotic drumbeat.

“You know me, don’t you?” said the rag doll. “I’ve had a lot of names.”

“MavIsALiar.”

That mechanical laughter again.

“That’s right. Andmyfollowers don’t want money or prizes. They don’t want thrills. In a world where the worst men run free, creating the most damage, they just want to see someone get what they deserve.”

“You’re hurting an innocent woman,” said Maverick. “What does that makeyou?”

Maverick heard the echo of his own voice. He walked over behind Hector and saw his own face on the screen there, too.

MavIsALiar was live on WeWatch.

Thousands of people were watching, the comment stream a chaos of mean emojis and jeers. He watched, stunned at the level of vitriol and hatred that scrolled by—all the flames and devil faces. And wasn’t there also that secret thrill? Because even when people hated you, they were still focused on you, watching.

“What are the rules? What is the prize?” he asked.

“I admire your focus. The rules? There are no rules, because men like you ignore them anyway. The prize? Angeline lives.”

Panic was a distant siren, something he felt but managed to push down, away.

“What do I do?”

“It’s hide and seek, Maverick. If you can find Angeline, and you admitliveall the things you’ve done wrong, she goes free.”

He’d been playing games since he was a kid. It was a thing he could do, something he understood. Except this time the stakes were his future and the only person he’d ever cared about. And he had the feeling that the whole thing was rigged. No matter how well he played, he was going to lose.

“Don’t hurt my friends.” He didn’t love the sound of his echoing voice—whiny, desperate.

“You don’t have any friends, Mav. You have employees. You have an audience. That’s not the same thing.”

Hector looked back at him, eyes strangely sad. Maverick could see on the screen that Hector was sharing the broadcast on the Extreme WeWatch channel, as well. Yes, that was right. Use it to get the most views possible. The game would go on.

“What about the other hiders?” Maverick asked.

He looked out the blurry window. Those men were still waiting, eyes on the trailer. The tension, the ruin, the high-energy vibration sizzled. Fear was a drug; it could be like rocket fuel.

The rag doll face filled the screen. Then it went black.

Then the power went out.

37

VIOLET